I write about regional, seasonal foods and I hope to preserve family food traditions so that they can live on and be shared with others.

08/13/2013

The Zen of Crabbing

Beautiful swimmer – that’s the translation of the scientific
name for the Delaware Blue Crab – callinectes sapidus. In high summer, catching, cooking and picking
these feisty creatures is a fine art practiced along bays and inlets up and
down the Delmarva Peninsula.

Thirty minutes after sunrise. With the water still like glass it’s time to
head out. Approaching the shallow
crabbing boat, something splashes at the edge of low tide and scrambling sand
crabs brandish their claws.

Having divined where the crabs are hiding in the murky water
we drop our lines laden with chicken necks.
Waves hypnotically lap against the boat.
Time and distractions do not exist.
The sun beats down mercilessly.
We wait, a wooden basket and long handled net at the ready. A book in hand, we catnap. Crabing is easy. Our arms are our fishing poles. The bait is the chicken neck, cast out
gently. We relax while anticipating that
exhilarating tug on the line and the excitement that ensues. Some days the tug doesn’t come but it can be
a successful day anyway. The freedom of
being out on the water with the quiet camaraderie of a fishing buddy can be
enough.

On days when the crabs are biting, snaring them can be an
adventure. It takes practice. They are smart, so we have to be fast. Sometimes we miss, accidentally dropping a
crab into the boat, next to barefoot toes.
Then someone must be brave enough to pick up the crab by its back
feelers while it is pinching away.
Finally we fill the basket and head to shore, crabs stowed away under
layers of damp seaweed.

The art of preparing crabs is a diverse as the people who
catch them. Most drop them into a pot of
boiling water. Some spear them and
remove the hard back shell before cooking.
Everyone uses some variation of Old Bay Seasoning, which smells like the
sea. The spice blend originated in
nearby Baltimore in the 1930’s, developed by a German immigrant named Gustov
Brunn. In those days crabs were so
plentiful that taverns served them for free, liberally sprinkled with Old Bay
to encourage beer consumption. The mix
features hot pepper flakes, paprika, dry mustard, salt, black pepper, cloves,
allspice, nutmeg, cardoman and ginger.
The distinctive bright yellow cans grace many a kitchen shelf in the summer
months.

Once cooked, the crabs’ brilliant blue claws turn bright orange
and we eagerly take our seats at tables spread with old newspapers. There is no definitive method for eating
crabs, but the universal rule is that every last morsel must be consumed, from
the premium back claws, extracted like lollypops, to the tiny bits sucked out
from swimmer claws.

Wooden hammers at the ready and a roll of paper towels
nearby, we begin. Some eat through their
pile of crabs one at a time, devouring the delicate white flesh. Others, more patient, clean five or six at
time before feasting, assembling a towering mound of crabmeat to savor.

Crabbing is the foundation of many a family tradition in
Delaware. Of course, we could get them already cooked from roadside stands, but
these never taste as good or fresh as the ones we catch ourselves.

Crab Dipping Sauce

1/3 cup
vinegar

¾ cup beer

½ tbs Old
Bay Seasoning

1 tbs sugar

Bring ingredients to a boil for 5 minutes. Turn down and simmer for 10 minutes. Cool and refrigerate in a glass
container. Dip crab meat into the sauce
while eating.

Comments

The Zen of Crabbing

Beautiful swimmer – that’s the translation of the scientific
name for the Delaware Blue Crab – callinectes sapidus. In high summer, catching, cooking and picking
these feisty creatures is a fine art practiced along bays and inlets up and
down the Delmarva Peninsula.

Thirty minutes after sunrise. With the water still like glass it’s time to
head out. Approaching the shallow
crabbing boat, something splashes at the edge of low tide and scrambling sand
crabs brandish their claws.

Having divined where the crabs are hiding in the murky water
we drop our lines laden with chicken necks.
Waves hypnotically lap against the boat.
Time and distractions do not exist.
The sun beats down mercilessly.
We wait, a wooden basket and long handled net at the ready. A book in hand, we catnap. Crabing is easy. Our arms are our fishing poles. The bait is the chicken neck, cast out
gently. We relax while anticipating that
exhilarating tug on the line and the excitement that ensues. Some days the tug doesn’t come but it can be
a successful day anyway. The freedom of
being out on the water with the quiet camaraderie of a fishing buddy can be
enough.

On days when the crabs are biting, snaring them can be an
adventure. It takes practice. They are smart, so we have to be fast. Sometimes we miss, accidentally dropping a
crab into the boat, next to barefoot toes.
Then someone must be brave enough to pick up the crab by its back
feelers while it is pinching away.
Finally we fill the basket and head to shore, crabs stowed away under
layers of damp seaweed.

The art of preparing crabs is a diverse as the people who
catch them. Most drop them into a pot of
boiling water. Some spear them and
remove the hard back shell before cooking.
Everyone uses some variation of Old Bay Seasoning, which smells like the
sea. The spice blend originated in
nearby Baltimore in the 1930’s, developed by a German immigrant named Gustov
Brunn. In those days crabs were so
plentiful that taverns served them for free, liberally sprinkled with Old Bay
to encourage beer consumption. The mix
features hot pepper flakes, paprika, dry mustard, salt, black pepper, cloves,
allspice, nutmeg, cardoman and ginger.
The distinctive bright yellow cans grace many a kitchen shelf in the summer
months.

Once cooked, the crabs’ brilliant blue claws turn bright orange
and we eagerly take our seats at tables spread with old newspapers. There is no definitive method for eating
crabs, but the universal rule is that every last morsel must be consumed, from
the premium back claws, extracted like lollypops, to the tiny bits sucked out
from swimmer claws.

Wooden hammers at the ready and a roll of paper towels
nearby, we begin. Some eat through their
pile of crabs one at a time, devouring the delicate white flesh. Others, more patient, clean five or six at
time before feasting, assembling a towering mound of crabmeat to savor.

Crabbing is the foundation of many a family tradition in
Delaware. Of course, we could get them already cooked from roadside stands, but
these never taste as good or fresh as the ones we catch ourselves.

Crab Dipping Sauce

1/3 cup
vinegar

¾ cup beer

½ tbs Old
Bay Seasoning

1 tbs sugar

Bring ingredients to a boil for 5 minutes. Turn down and simmer for 10 minutes. Cool and refrigerate in a glass
container. Dip crab meat into the sauce
while eating.